No in Between (Inside Out #4)(50)

“What haven’t you told me?” he demands, tearing his mouth from mine.

“I need you to know something first. Our first night together, I hadn’t let another man touch me in two years. I felt no fear with you, Chris. No hesitation. It felt right with you, freeing in every way. And you know what I’d been through now. So you know how huge that was for me.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because tonight’s panic attack wasn’t just a panic attack.”

“What does that mean?” he asks quietly.

A shiver races over me, and he wraps the throw blanket at the end of the bed around me, holding on to the edges. “Talk to me, Sara. I need to understand.”

I nod. “Back when Michael . . . when . . .”

“He raped you.”

“Don’t call it that.”

“You need to face what it was, to deal with it. And if that means going to that counselor we talked about in Paris, then we go.”

“I suggested it; I know. And we should. But right now, I need to start with you.”

“I’m listening, and I’m in all the way, baby. Whatever it is, right or wrong, I’m here.”

“I know. I just hope you don’t end up regretting it.” He starts to object and I touch his lips. “Just listen.” He gives a short nod and I let my hand slip away. “After I threatened Michael with the protection order, I was terrified he’d come back. I hid inside my apartment a lot and kept to myself. A couple of weeks later, while I was teaching a class, a sudden panic came over me. I ended up in the bathroom in a cold sweat, not knowing why. There was no obvious trigger. And so it began—one panic attack after the other.”

“How often?”

“Daily, for six months. I was alone and had no one to talk to that I trusted. I thought about seeing a counselor then, too. But knowing how Michael operates, I also knew I was being watched, and he would have seen seeking counseling as a weakness that made me fresh prey all over again. I dealt with it on my own, and thankfully the attacks stopped as abruptly as they began.”

“You know why they started. Do you know why they ended?”

“It was when I finally felt in control for the first time in my life. I have an ex-student to thank for that. Elizabeth’s father was beating her and her mother. She often came to school with bruises, and I’d made efforts through my superiors to get her help. She and her mother denied there was a problem, but I bonded with the girl. Gradually, she shared small details.”

“You saw yourself in her.”

“Yes. I was never beaten, but the pain both my father and Michael had caused me was very present for me. And the way her mother didn’t get her out of the situation was a hot button, too. I loved my mother, but she accepted my father’s abuse.”

“So you got stronger for Elizabeth?”

“Oh yes. Teaching brought out this mama bear quality in me.”

“What happened to Elizabeth?”

“Her mother showed up at the school one day with the car packed up to leave. When I walked them to the parking lot, the dad showed up.” I shake my head. “It was bad. He was violent, and he lunged at the mother. She’d finally stood up for herself and her daughter, and I couldn’t let him hurt her. I jumped between them.”

“Oh f*ck, baby, what happened?”

“He broke my nose. I sent him to jail. Elizabeth and her mother left town, and I never heard from them again.”

Understanding seeps into his expression. “And the panic attacks stopped.”

“Yes. And from that point on, I swore no one else would ever control me again. But you . . . you are the one person who makes me feel I can let the walls down without any repercussions. That’s trust, Chris.”

“But you didn’t let the walls down tonight.”

“And I told you why.”

His hands slide around my neck. “You aren’t Amber. You will never be Amber. She sought out the whip to get my love. You only need to breathe, and you have it. What you see as flaws, I see as perfection.”

“Chris,” I whisper, too choked up to manage more. I love him with all my heart and soul.

“No one,” he adds, his tone raw, “most especially Amber, is ever coming between us.” He kisses me, a deep, passionate kiss that has my head spinning. “Let’s get out of town after the hearing tomorrow,” he says, tearing his mouth from mine. “We’ll go see Katie and Mike. We have a wedding to plan.”

His message is clear. Nothing I’ve confessed changes his intent to make me his wife.

“I don’t want to get married in the middle of this hell,” I say. “I want the day I marry my best friend to be special.”

“Best friend?” he asks, his eyes lighting.

“You are. You know that, right?”

“And you’re everything to me, Sara. Screw everything else; we’re planning our wedding. We can set the date later. And I’m going to have the jeweler I told you about meet us at Katie and Mike’s.” He brushes his lips over mine. “I want to show you something.” He leans back and reaches between the bed and the dresser, producing a sketch pad. “The ring I designed.”

I straighten, eager to see his creation. “Yes. Please.”